


Lemon Meringue Pie

by merryfortune



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS, キラキラ☆プリキュアアラモード | KiraKira ☆ PreCure A La Mode
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26643403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryfortune/pseuds/merryfortune
Summary: Spectre has been instructed to relax and to simply enjoy the new surroundings. As he wanders through the town of Ichigozaka, he happens upon a mysterious patisserie.
Relationships: Arisugawa Himari | Cure Custard & Spectre
Comments: 12
Kudos: 8





	Lemon Meringue Pie

**Author's Note:**

> Last year, in February, I had a dream where Spectre met the KiraKira girls and they baked him a cake and he cried. So, naturally, I had to make this dream a reality.

Ryoken stepped onto the dock first and the moment he had both feet firmly planted on it, he already felt relaxed. He stretched out his upper shoulders and then his arms, taking big, gulping breaths of the air around him, his lips contentedly smacking together as he did so. Then, he took a few more steps down the wet and salty dock and allowed Spectre to come down off the boat. Ryoken twisted around to greet his companion and Spectre smiled nervously.

“Welcome to Ichigozaka, Spectre.” Ryoken said warmly. “Do you smell that?”

Spectre sighed, figuring he may as well humour Ryoken. “The smell of the sea?” he asked, uninterested in the conversation, squinted off into the distance and it was odd but he could see the optical illusion of a giant cake behind the main hub of the town that he and the others had arrived in.

“It’s the smell of freedom.” Ryoken said, correcting him arrogantly. “We are well away from Den City right now, we’re under fake names, and it’s highly unlikely we’ll run into any trouble here. This place is quaint and refreshing, it’s even intrinsic the air. Doesn’t it just smell… delicious?”

“Quite right, sir.” Spectre agreed with a mild neutrality which betrayed him.

“This place is known for its food and fresh produce, which is why I’m going to handle gathering supplies.” Ryoken said.

“Are you certain? I think I would much rather handle that than you, you said I yourself? This place is known for its produce, perhaps I ought to handle groceries. That way I get to look at said produce.” Spectre insisted.

“I knew you were going to say that but that’s exactly why it’s my turn to handle the menial. You ought to go visit the farms and cafes around, enjoy yourself. You work too hard, let me treat you. I hear the bee farm is popular with tourists, when they’re open for viewing, anyway.” Ryoken said.

It seemed his mind was set. “Very well then, sir. I shall take the day off then and enjoy myself.”

“I’ll see you when you return then. Just don’t stay out too late, I’d like to reconvene on the ship by sunset.” Ryoken said.

“Understood. See you then.” Spectre replied.

Ryoken wagged his finger at Spectre. “And I mean it. I want you to enjoy the whole day on land.” 

“You’ve made your point, Master Ryoken.” Spectre said through gritted teeth.

“Excellent.” Ryoken beamed and they went their separate ways for measure when they got to the bottom of the dock where their ship was presently stationed.

Spectre wandered around. Mostly aimlessly which he hated. He would have much rathered to have gone grocery shopping because at least it gave him purpose; tasks to fulfil. He wasn’t the type to be idle but at least, on foot, he was getting to know the town and it was as Ryoken had said. Very quaint, friendly too. It was pleasant.

The paths along the roads were a creamy yellowy colour and the russet buildings which lined them were charming with all sorts of quirky and niche shops crammed in these streets. The greenery around was unrestrained and reaching for a heavenly blue sky filled with fluffy clouds. The people here tottered about at their own pace, laughing and gossiping about as they did so with these genuine and benevolent smiles. Spectre had never seen anything like it, being a city mouse as he was; not that he fancied himself as such. Still, in his own secluded way, he was becoming endeared to this somewhat large town. Ichigozaka was nothing if not nice it seemed but being himself, commiserating and cautious, he felt too exposed out here. Worried that if stopped to peruse each and every nursery or whatever else caught his eye, that friendly air this township had would dissipate.

It was a shame, almost, as there had been a very good many cafes that Spectre had spied which piqued his curiosity. And it was yet another shame that he had had a big breakfast this morning to help get rid of the last supplies from their last landing. He had enjoyed it but he was beginning to suspect that he would have enjoyed any random breakfast from any one random cafe which made its home nestled in the various terraced streets of Ichigozaka. 

It was here that Ryoken had been right again. This was very much a town which loved its food. Sweets, in particular. There were entire patisseries, it seemed, devoted to desserts. One for macarons, one for chocolate, ones for fruit tarts, and many, many for cakes. Spectre had lost count of how many beautiful cakes he had seen on display as he wandered the various streets of what appeared to be the central business district of Ichigozaka. This place was certainly bigger than expected. Spectre had yet to run into Ryoken as he went.

So, instead of ending up in any plaza or the like lest he bumped into Ryoken only to be shooed off again, Spectre had ended up on the furthest roads of Ichigozaka. The entire town was set down in front of a peculiar looking mountain range. He had, of course, noticed it earlier. A mountain which looked like a cake; greenery from grown trees making the fluffy icing and scrapes of yellow-white rock forming the cake itself. It was quite the natural wonder and Spectre was, unsurprisingly, drawn to it. He wondered if there were any hiking trails available to explore since it seemed very scalable and that it had some good road coiling around it’s tops. But he must have taken a wrong way to get to its base, Spectre thought as he stared up at that mountain; if it could be called as such as it was quite diminutive, comparatively speaking.

Instead, he had wound up on some back road which had taken him to some patch of forestry which wasn’t too far from what seemed to be either the local middle school or the local high school. Some sort of school. But it wasn’t entirely empty out this way, as the meandering paths would imply. Still that buttercream yellow, Spectre had found a path leading into the forest which in turn tumbled into something peculiar. He had thought, maybe, he had found that bee farm that Ryoken had mentioned but that wasn’t right, this building that he found, tucked into the first sort of parade of pine trees, not all that thick into the forest, was too impractical and far too whimsical looking to be a farmstead.

His first impression of it was that it was pink. Garishly so. But as he wandered closer, he saw more to it than cloying cuteness. He saw natural elements to it as well such as the giant tree stump that it sat upon and the mushroom themed outdoor decor; even if they were impossibly coloured, they were still mushrooms, or maybe toadstools. He saw the fanning waffle shapes on its roof and the giant, almost sugar cookie-like flowers on its outer facade and the fun cream and red stripes of the upper building and then he saw that it was open. He didn’t see this building’s name on it but he did see it’s adorable, slightly humble, open sign.

His stomach rumbled. It seemed all that walking around had caught up on him. It was barely an hour before noon, more likely than not, and he already pined for breakfast as though it had been days ago, not two hours ago. He sighed. Of the cafes, this seemed to be a cafe given its food theme, this was easily the least sophisticated cafe that Spectre had come across in this town. Ergo, as it seemed unsophisticated and therefore beneath him, he found it unappetising. He would have much preferred to return to town and go find that one cafe which boasted a suave macchiato coffee, exquisite black forest cakes, robust teas, and more but it seemed too late for that. Looking over his shoulder, Spectre realised that he had walked a lot further than he intended to but his kinship with forests were a siren song, it seemed so he relented.

“Hello?” His voice rang out, vaguely hesitant as it was dark inside, as he pushed the door open. Above him the bell tinkled and twinkled.

He crept inside and as he did so, the lights turned on. He cringed as he was blasted with lights and then a gaggle of teenage girls were quick to careen out from beyond the main foyer of this place. They were all dressed in matching uniforms with their own unique highlight colour: pink, yellow, blue, purple, red, and green. 

“Welcome to Kirakira Patisserie!” they chorused back to him.

Spectre stiffened. This was definitely not the establishment for him but he felt entrapped by their glittering eyes all but brimming with stars. The girl dressed in pink with twin pigtails stepped forward, beaming.

“Sorry, we weren’t expecting guests today but KiraPati is always open. Let us give you a shining sweets experience.” she said.

The red and purple girls, well Spectre thinks they were both girls, the one dressed in red was extremely androgynous but had feminine eyes… 

Their arms swept to the side and directed Spectre to a table, “Right this way, sir.” they told him.

Spectre huffed. He pulled at his shirt collar as though he felt suffocated but he obliged the direction. He felt supremely uncomfortable since he was now the focus of all six girls’ attentions and he was very much someone who preferred to be the wallflower but for whatever reason, they were obsessed with him personally. He sat down on one of their ridiculous looking chairs and looked around. The aesthetic was saccharine, to say the least. More jumbled than cohesive but certainly sweet. All the decor themed around desserts, likely epitomising what these girls considered their specialities. So, cakes, some vanilla cream and others hearty chocolate, and macarons were present but also ice-cream and pudding and parfait. 

The red and purple girls dawdled about and brought back a menu, the tiniest girl in yellow brought Spectre a tray with glasses and a pitcher of ice cold water.

“Here you go, sir.” she said nervously before a menu was thrust in front of Spectre’s face.

He chose not to thank any of them whilst he examined the laminated paper that he had been given. It was parchment, originally, and had assorted, cutesy decorations drawn onto it in watercolour as well as their food. All of which were named delectably girlie with a complementary animal theme. Blue Lion Ice-Cream, it’s blueberry and vanilla bean taste will set your taste buds free. How trite. Spectre decided that he disliked it and his apprehension must have been noticeable as the purple haired girl sat down opposite him.

“You’re a bit… cantankerous, aren’t you?” she mused, resting her pretty face on her pretty hands.

Spectre elected to ignore that comment. He glanced at the other girls clustered around him.

“We were having a team meeting today.” the pink girl said. “Updating our recipes, welcome policies, counting our money. My name is Usami Ichika and it’s good to meet you, sir. My dream is to be a world renown pâtissier one day. It was my idea to open KiraPati. To whom do we owe the pleasure?”

Spectre sighed and wondered if he ought to give a fake name. Looking at these children, they seemed stupidly honest. Somehow that didn’t become incentive for him to lie but to be honest himself.

“You may call me Spectre. I’m from out of town.” he replied.

“Hmm, vacationing, perhaps?” the purple girl in front of him ask. He merely gave her a nasty look. She merely laughed. “My name is Kotozume Yukari.” She glanced at the other girls and Spectre prepared to dedicate his memory to their names and faces, somewhat unwillingly.

“Tategami Aoi.” The girl dressed in blue, with wild hair and a snaggle tooth, pointed to herself with her thumb. “Nice to meet ya.”

“My name is Kenjou Akira, it is a pleasure to meet you.” The androgynous youth in red said.

Spectre snickered you himself. 

“Huh? What’s so funny?” Miss Tategami asked.

“I know an Aoi and Akira who happen to be siblings, is all. Akira being the elder brother.” Spectre explained his joke.

To his vast displeasure, Miss Kotozume laughed. “What an amusing coincidence.”

“Indeed.” Miss Kenjou agreed. “I’m an older sibling myself, I have a baby sister.”

“Charming.” Spectre sourly replied.

“I’m a twin, myself, the older as well, actually.” That girl in green, with eerie eyes and blonde hair, piped up next. “I’m also a world renown patissier already, having worked and studied in Paris, France, previously to here. Bonjour, my name is Kirahoshi Ciel, but perhaps my reputation precedes me.”

“I can assure you it doesn’t.” Spectre told her boldly. He relished how offended she looked.

Miss Kotozume laughed again. It was a very pretentious and annoying laugh.

“Go on, Himarin, it’s your turn to introduce yourself.” Miss Usami said and she jostled the smallest girl with them in this arrangement of taller girls, like Miss Kenjou and Miss Tategami at the back, and smaller girls, like Miss Usami and Miss Kirahoshi, at the front. In fact, Spectre had forgotten that there were six, not five, girls who had greeted him at this bizarre cafe.

Now, it was the teeny-tiny one in yellow’s turn to introduce herself. Something she seemed terrified to do. She fidgeted with her hands in front of her apron’s bow.

“Hello, Mr Spectre, sir, my name is…” Her voice trailed off almost too soft to hear. “My name is Arisugawa Himari. It - It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir!” Her voice got unexpectedly loud at the end of her introduction.

Spectre smiled. Almost sincerely. He didn’t know why but he felt as though he could have an affinity for this one, and not only because she wore yellow as her accent colour similar to how he did in the Link VRAINS. He felt as though he could swallow her whole like the sweet little morsel she was and he did delight in toying with people so, girls especially.

“It is a pleasure to meet all of you.” Spectre said with some level of being affable in his voice. “Now,” he said as he turned his attention back to the menu he had been given, “I’m quite peckish so if you don’t mind, I’d like some space to decide what I would like to order.”

“Oh! Of course! C’mon girls, let’s prep the kitchen.” Miss Usami said. 

“Okay.” Miss Arisugawa chirped.

“Not you, Himarin. You stay out so Spectre has company. You seem to annoy this Mr Grumpy Pants the least. He smiled for real when you introduced yourself.” Miss Usami said, patting her friend on her shoulder.

Miss Kotozume laughed again for the third time and this time, it was truly grating since it came on such coattails. But she got up from across from him, joining Miss Kenjou’s side specifically, possessively holding onto her sleeve like a lover would. 

Spectre sputtered. He wanted to be offended but the utter childishness displayed made it difficult for him to take the insult seriously. Still, for a girl who supposedly wanted to be a famous sweets maker, she wasn’t all that sweet.

Miss Arisugawa’s expression seemed pained with her shyness. Her caramel brown eyes simmered. She swallowed a whimper.

“Okay, I’ll keep Mr Spectre company,” her gaze flicked to him, “but only if he doesn’t mind.”

Spectre wanted to sigh. He had wanted to use that as an opportunity to escape and go find somewhere that he actually wanted to eat but apparently not. Whilst she seemed like a pushover, the emotional toll Spectre perceived from hurting her feelings was too much - even for him and that was saying something. So, he surrendered to his fate. Surely there was bound to be something edible in this cafe.

“I don’t mind at all.” he said.

Miss Arisugawa cheered up somewhat over not being rejected by this strange man.

“Are we sure…?” Miss Tategami asked in a low, growl voice, hand in front of her mouth. “Anyone else getting, like, real bad vibes from this dude?”

Spectre stifled a snicker. He found that comment to be flattering despite the intention behind it. None of these girls had any sense of common courtesy and it was amusing him like none other.

“Yeah,” Miss Kenjou agreed quietly, “this guy looks suspicious. And his face is familiar but I can’t place it…”

“I have one of those faces, or so I’ve been told. Plain, easy to mistake nonetheless, but I look forward to having a teatime with Miss Arisugawa at your suggestion, I don’t suppose one of you dears would bring out a pot of Earl Grey, or anything really.” Spectre said.

Miss Arisugawa smiled demurely, her expression lightening.

“I’ll handle that, making tea is one of the things that I excel at.” Miss Kotozume piped up.

Spectre was surprised to hear that. “I grow my own tea leaves at home, actually, so I take it you must similarly enjoying making tea then?” he asked but he was quite sure why he asked; to be friendly, faux and otherwise, perhaps?

“No. I neither like nor enjoy making tea, I just so happen to be good at it.” she replied, airy and fickle.

“Yukari… you never change…” Miss Usami lamented, vaguely annoyed, then clapped her hands. “Alright girl’s, let’s just get ready for when Himarin sends us Mr Spectre’s order.”

“Thank you.” His reply was venomous.

In the meantime, the crowd dissolved and their usual duties took them aside. Miss Kirahoshi, of course, making the loudest exit, flaunting her French and all the way she could say goodbye, fortunately she was dragged away by Miss Usami and Miss Tategami. Thereby leaving Spectre alone, with Miss Arisugawa, of course, who was the sacrifice to the beast, it seemed. She cautiously sat down where her peer in purple had been. She flattened her skirt down once she got comfortable; Spectre kept an eye on her in his peripheries whilst he hummed, looking over the menu. None of it all that appealing, truth be told. 

“What do you recommend?” he asked, not expecting himself to take any reply that she may give seriously, of course.

But Himari seemed elated, ecstatic, to have been asked such a thing. Spectre had glanced towards her, curious, and was beheld to a very gratefully gleeful look in her eyes. Her shy smile was gorgeous.

“The custard pudding.” she said, dazed as though she were in love before jostling herself from such a blithe look. She turned sheepish, embarrassed; she hid her blushing face behind her hand. “That’s probably arrogant of me to say since it’s my signature dish that I added to the menu.”

Spectre rolled his eyes. Was he supposed to console her? Emotionally validate her? He had no idea and admittedly couldn’t care less.

“How sweet is it?” he asked.

“A little bit but you could adjust it based on how you make the caramel that goes with it.” Miss Arisugawa replied. “I know a lot about making caramels, custards, pudding, I studied a book on them since I was young.”

Spectre’s ears pricked up so he took another look at this girl. There was a loneliness in her eyes which he hadn’t noticed before.

“People used to make fun of me for it, saying I was obsessed with that book but sweets are science, I want to share what I know with everyone but apparently it’s annoying…” Miss Arisugawa rambled. 

He sighed. His heart ached for her. He knew this loneliness quite well. He had disliked that trait in Miss Zaizen, and he had very well made that dislike known to her, but he only disliked it because she was trying to use it to manipulate him in her idea of righteous justice. It made him similar to Playmaker, in that regard, that he disliked when people tried to tell him how to feel about things, especially the Incident but Miss Arisugawa was currently blessed with ignorant bliss. Her loneliness was her own and she wasn’t trying to make it Spectre’s ergo she was worthy of his sympathies at the very least.

Spectre looked towards where he suspected the staff only kitchens were. “Do those girls treat you right?” he asked sharply.

“Yes! Of course!” Miss Arisugawa squeaked. She turned bashful, happily so. “They call me the Sweets Doctor, they love my advice and all my knowledge on the subject of sweets. I’m… I’m very lucky to have them.”

“How sweet.” Spectre commented.

“It is, isn’t it?” Miss Arisugawa giggled. “You have no idea actually…”

A rare bloom of happiness, happiness for someone who was not himself nor Ryoken bloomed in his chest. The outcome of this exchange made Spectre happy. Perhaps, in some happier timeline, he could have been more like this girl than himself but such thoughts sickened him to the stomach as they required some very important things not happening to him. But just seeing that slither of himself in her, and seeing her happy, made him happy in turn; how uncommon. But he wouldn’t let himself have these feelings and thoughts for too long because of that thorn in his heart.

“Now, this recipe book you studied,” he began, blasé, “does it have a name? I wouldn’t mind reading it.”

“It’s called the _Science of Sweets_ , it’s by Tachibana Yuu.” Miss Arisugawa replied. “Thank you for taking interest. You're actually quite kind, even if you seem scary.”

Spectre harrumphed. This young lady was very incorrect but it made him feel good, superficially like xylitol, so he let it happen. But he was soon to think other thoughts. He was still no closer to deciding what he wanted to have at this patisserie and worse still, Miss Arisugawa seemed to sense that. Concern looked cute on her already cute as a button type face.

“If nothing appeals to you, don’t be afraid to make a special request. We would love to expand our menu and who knows, perhaps you have the idea for the dessert we need to add to KiraPati’s menu.” she said.

“I suppose I do, quite literally, have all day to burn… very well then, I’d like something off the menu. How about… a lemon meringue pie?”

“A dessert which is sour then sweet. It sounds a lot like you, Mr. Spectre.” Miss Arisugawa chirped. “I think Ichika and the others would be delighted to make that.”

“Well, I look forward to it.” Spectre sighed, bored.

“We have an extra apron which should fit you, I’m sure the others would have no qualms if you helped. We love doing this sort of thing when we have the chance.” Miss Arisugawa insisted as she got up; she offered her tiny, delicate hand to Spectre.

“I would be honoured.” Spectre sarcastically replied but it seemed the sarcasm was lost on Miss Arisugawa.

He did not take her hand, like she offered, but got up and he joined her nonetheless. She zipped off and was quick to come back with an apron for him to wear over his clothes. Bless her cotton socks but the accent on this apron was orange. That amused Spectre somewhat as he tied the white ribbon behind his back. She squealed when it was all in place on him; it made his skin crawl but at least now that he was all tidy, he was now permitted into the girls’ inner sanctum.

Unsurprisingly, they were lounging around bored with various magazines and photo books and recipes sprawled around in some pretends of doing work. But they jumped from their lethargy to their feet when Miss Arisugawa had opened the door. She beamed but their excitement waned slightly when they saw Spectre by their friend’s side.

“Mr. Spectre would like to order a lemon meringue pie.” Miss Arisugawa piped up blithely.

“Uhh, Himari, we don’t serve lemon meringue pie.” Miss Tategami said.

Miss Usami jammed her elbow in her friend’s ribs. “But we are more than happy to make an exception.” she said, grinning. “Do you have much experience baking, Mr Spectre?”

“A moderate amount if I’m being generous to myself.” Spectre replied with a vague hand gesture; his other arm against his chest defensively. “Sponge cakes and black forest cakes are about as difficult as I’ve done; I’ve never made pastry from scratch though… so it’s mixed.”

“We make pastry from scratch all the time, for all our custard fruit tarts, we can do it now if you like; show you the ropes. Still sponge cakes and stuff are really complex so you're doing well.” Miss Usami said.

“Thank you…” Spectre murmured and he puffed out his chest a little bit more.

Miss Usami put her hands on her hips. “Alright girls, I’ll show Mr Spectre the ropes on how to make pastry. Yukari, you're our meringue expert so you can handle the meringue on this pie. Himarin I want you to make the lemon curd itself. Akira, team up with Yukari; Aoi, you team up with Himarin; and Ciel, I want you on my team. Does that sound good?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The girls chorused back to Miss Usami.

What good little troopers, Spectre thought as he was quickly assimilated into the pastry making unit fronted by Miss Usami and Miss Kirahoshi. 

The kitchen soon came alive with all sorts of delicious smells. From the smell of the sugar splashing about with lemon juice to other preparational tasks, it was both far too cloying but perfect all the same. This kitchen was made to make things which, in turn, would spark joy. As such, Spectre felt out of place to be in the thick of it, as it also came alive with all sorts of dulcet small talk and laughter and other forms of jolliness which he was ill fitted to but as an observer, if he were to detach himself from the rolling pin that he had been given, perhaps it could have been pleasant. If he could stave off the jealousy that he was prone to. The girls had something that he wanted. He was used to stealing, allegedly, but here it was freely shared with him. That sort of upheaval to his pattern unsettled him but he did appreciate the logistics of it. He learned things that he may not have otherwise learned in this kitchen.

Some, most of it, practical. Little corrections to mistakes that he didn’t even know he was making. Not even kept strictly to the pastry that he had more or less asked for help with. He was tossed around like a toy to the other stations and then he picked up even more, so they talked about their favourite sweets. Again, chocolate cakes, macarons, ice creams, parfait, were at the top of their favourite things to talk about and of course make as young pâtissiers. He trusted their expertise because they were the ones running a café, not him. But also, because he got the feeling that sugar, sweets, desserts, were more than just their passions, but something much deeper, and even potentially spiritual.

A suspicion which was confirmed when it was time to put the pie, looking more like a pie in Spectre’s opinion, in the oven. The girls clustered around the oven and something more creepy than cute ensued. 

“Kirakira-ru, kirakira-ru.” they chanted.

“What on Earth are you doing?” Spectre couldn’t help but to ask.

Miss Usami was the one to jump to her feet on that one, bouncing like a rabbit. She looked a touch flustered, red cheeks and embarrassed, by being asked.

“Oh, um, it’s our lucky charm,” she half explained, rubbing the back of her head, readjusting how her beret sat on her hairline at the back of her neck, “it helps desserts shine, if you will. Sparkle, even.”

“I would call it more a magical spell, one granted by fairies and the like, than just a lucky charm but Ichika is correct. It’s power is vast and simple, it brings out a special, sparkling sweetness to desserts.” Miss Kirahoshi added, sounding like a know it all but her demeanour, her eyes especially, was enigmatic.

“...I see.” Spectre mused, the syllables tight and sour on his tongue.

“You’re welcome to try, if you like. We swear by it.” Miss Tategami added, not even looking up from the oven.

“I guess if you're an outsider, it is a little weird.” Miss Kenjo murmured.

Spectre’s lips thinned. He supposed - knew - that was apt, but it still stung to hear. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was an outsider and he wasn’t a particularly superstitious one at that. But he did watch. Observe. The chorus was strange in the air; cloyingly sweet, too.

“Kira-kira-kiraru.” 

The final chant of it was bittersweet. Spectre had made things awkward, he realised. But the girls were satisfied and with that, they dispersed their crowd from around the oven. Spectre was the last one standing, just as he had been the last one to join. It stung but only a little. His inner people watched, however, was amused once more to see the couplings of the girls as they found something to do on the interim as the lemon meringue pie baked.

Miss Kotozume and Miss Kenjo coupled up to do make tea together; after all, Spectre had requested it so Miss Kotozume got the tea leaves and water organised whilst Miss Kenjo brought out the crockery for her. Miss Usami and Miss Kirahoshi coupled up to do the dishes, as the girls working hardest towards the long term goal of being patissiers, they felt it their duty to do the menial tasks no one else wanted. Miss Tategami bucked the trend, however, plopping down in a bean bag with her phone and earphones in; completely oblivious to her surroundings all but immediately; totally engrossed by the music which she toyed with on a conducting finger in the air.

And oh, Spectre realised. That left one girl unaccounted for. Miss Arisugawa. But, sure enough, he looked to his left and she was found, timidly standing by his side and he felt the tug of a smile on his lips. He could relate. He, too, so unassuming that he was left out or forgotten but then she turned her head.

She smiled and Spectre had to look away. Her smile was too sweet and too dazzling for someone like him to be beholden to.

“Would you like to read with me, Mr Spectre…?” she timidly asked him and already, she tried to touch his hand by reaching up. Or maybe his sleeve in her shyness.

“The Science of Sweets?” he asked.

Miss Arisugawa nodded. Flattered that he had truly remembered the name of her favourite book.

Spectre sighed. “I would be honoured to, Miss Arisugawa.” he replied - and, in tit for tat, he did curtly wonder if he could get her to read _Blue Angel_ later but he wasn’t sure what her genre is fiction was just yet, for all he knew, it could be gory murder mysteries but he did doubt it.

Miss Arisugawa was rightly pleased by his reply. 

She led him to one of the outskirts of the kitchen. Hers, from the feeling of things. She sat him down and then disappeared. Spectre waited for her and he thought that her little reading nook was cute. She came back with her school bag. She beamed proudly and Spectre noticed all her teeth for once because her smile was that big; she pulled out a book which was very lovingly worn down with time and age.

“Tada,” she said, “The Science of Sweets by Tachibana Yuu.”

Spectre gave her a sarcastic round of applause but a less than sardonic smile, too.

Miss Arisugawa sat down and as soon as she sat down, her expression flattened. There wasn’t much room, maybe if she was going to sit with another girl, like Ichika or Aoi, who were roughly her size, if a little bit taller, then there would be room but not for Spectre. Spectre was quite a bit bigger than her, after all.

“Oh,” she said, disappointed, “uh, maybe we should go sit elsewhere?”

Her suggestion made Spectre roll his eyes. Without thinking about it, or asking her, Spectre picked her up and she squealed. He sat down and then sat in her lap, anchoring his hands around her waist and his chin settling in the crook of her neck and shoulders. She was incandescently warm and considering how she blushed, it was no wonder.

“Does this suffice?” Spectre asked when Miss Arisugawa stopped her quibbling.

“I - I suppose.” she whimpered. “I’m not too bony? Heavy?”

She was the former but not the latter, Spectre sighed, “Not at all.” he replied, lying.

“That’s good.” Miss Arisugawa murmured. “A-Are you a fast or slower reader?”

“Fast.” Spectre told her.

“That’s good. Me too…” Miss Arisugawa smiled.

She also sounded a touch calmer too. Spectre embraced her and together, they read the book that she so dearly loved. And Spectre had to admit, as he read it over, the language of the book was more sophisticated than he was expecting; it seemed that little Miss Arisugawa had been quite advanced for her age. Spectre smiled not only as he read the book, making mental notes here and there of things useful to him, but also when he noticed how Miss Arisguawa smiled.

She looked sublime in her joy as she reread this book for the umpteenth time. If Spectre could flatter himself, then perhaps it was with a new layer of joy from reading it with a- no, he shouldn’t flatter himself. He was here on all but false pretences as he had yet to reveal that he was a dubious man in actuality, something that Misses Kujo and Tategami had picked up on… But he had to admit, he was beginning to feel quite comfortable himself being here very much despite his initial reluctance to this strange, even quirky, little patisserie.

Around them, there was quite a pleasant atmosphere. The smell of the pie baking was citric but lively. It had Spectre salivating. Miss Tategami wired her music for the others to enjoy and happily informed Spectre it was her own, from her band called Wild Azur, and he was impressed with that, even though kiddy rock absolutely was not his genre. Miss Kotozume shared refreshments with them, freshly poured tea which tasted exquisite. She was true to her word and quite a talent in the art of tea making, Spectre said and as he continued to read with Miss Arisugawa, did vie for a few of her tips but she was rubbish at describing her technique, he thought. Neither here nor there with her advice but Spectre listened intently too whilst skimming the pages of _The Science of Sweets_.

Before any of them knew it, the oven went ding. Miss Usami rocketed to her feet and on the top of her lungs, she announced: “It’s done.”

“Thank goodness,” Spectre replied with a heavy breath, “I’m famished. I thought I might be the first person to starve to death in a cafe.” His nose twitched whilst he thought briefly about all the times as a child he had nearly starved to death. This too, he came to the conclusion, could be fun as well.

“Sorry, we’ll have to let it cool.” Miss Usami pointed out.

“But I bet some ice-cream would go down with it.” Miss Tategami laughed.

“Ooh,” Miss Usami exclaimed, eyes huge, “that’s a great idea. How about you go fetch some from the freezer?”

“Yeah, totes.” Miss Tategami replied.

The two girls went to opposite ends of the kitchen. Miss Usami opened the oven and Miss Tategami opened the box freezer; there were about equal amounts of steam at either end of the kitchen. The two girls were in great rhythm as they set down their things on the table.

“I should, um, probably get off your lap now, huh?” Miss Arisugawa shyly asked.

“Yes, probably. I wouldn’t want to get crumbs in your hair but I promise I’m not a messy eater.” Spectre replied.

“I think we should eat outside today.” Miss Kenjo piper up. “We have the weather for it.”

“Yes, it was quite pleasant earlier. Might even be warmer now which would be nice. Honestly, I am an outdoors preferred person.” Spectre agreed.

The girls exchanged surprisingly pained glanced amongst themselves. They mouthed things at one another things which Spectre missed. Especially with Miss Arisugawa now suddenly struggled in Spectre’s lap. She closed her book with a loud, resounding slap and started bobbing up and down, disrupting Spectre’s gaze by forcing herself upwards into it.

“Cease that.” Spectre grumbled, mildly irritated as he shifted beneath her.

She had been quite the little doll for him up until now. Sitting peacefully in his lap; yes, she was a little bony but Spectre hardly minded. And now she was making a nuisance of herself. 

“Get off.” Spectre further insisted, more harshly than he intended.

“Sorry!” Miss Arisugawa squeaked.

She jumped off him and did a little dance in front of him as she felt as though she had no feeling in either of her legs. She patted herself down, fretting about pins and needles. She was quite the panicky thing when she was struck right.

Miss Kenjo watched with a strange, embarrassed for her friend type expression, “All in favour of eating outside, say I.”

“I.” Spectre spoke up as he got to his feet also.

To his surprise, all the girls chimed in as well. He supposed their initial abrasion to Miss Kenjo’s suggestion was just a little hiccup. Another quirk of theirs.

“Well, good news, the lemon meringue pie is all cooled down.” Miss Usami announced on top of that.

“The ice-cream’s melted too.” Miss Tategami added.

“Excellent.” Miss Usami replied. She turned slightly to address Spectre. “Come closer, this is your dessert so it’s only natural to induct you into all our traditions.”

Spectre approached cautiously. He wondered with suspicion if there was going to be more of that peculiar chanting but perhaps. But perhaps not. The girls crowded around him, centring him and the pie. Miss Usami pushed a tray of odds and ends towards Spectre.

“As I’m sure you noticed, every dessert on our menu has an animal theme. Swan cream puffs… Panda cookies… Bear pancakes with syrup…” Miss Usami said. “Strawberry shortcake bunnies.”

“Pegasus parfait.” Miss Kirahoshi sounded as though she were boasting, especially as she flipped her long, blonde hair off her shoulders.

“Doggy chocolate cake.” Miss Kenjo added.

“Kitty-cat macarons.” Miss Kotozume smiled.

“Lion ice-cream.” Miss Tategami, like Miss Kirahoshi, also sounded like she was boasting.

“Squirrel custard pudding.” Miss Arisugawa shyly has her turn in this chorus.

“Exactly!” Miss Usami chirruped. “Now, you get a theme too. Usually I pick, I’m good at this sort of thing.”

Spectre sighed. He flippantly waved a hand at her, “I’m in your care, Miss Usami.”

Miss Usami hummed with great, intense thought. She squinted and she calculated. She framed him in between her fingers which she held like a photographer. Despite being scrutinised so heavily, Spectre was barely bothered, in fact he preened first her to amuse her, making odd, even scary expressions. All whilst Miss Usami attempted to determine what kind of animal best suited him and the lemon meringue pie they had all made together. 

“I got it! I have a bright idea!” she exclaimed, snapping her fingers. “An animal that is seen as unscrupulous, dangerous, too, one that would definitely eat squirrels if unattended-”

“Hey.” Spectre and Miss Arisugawa interrupted her, taking offense to her comment.

Miss Usami laughed. “But is also seen as intelligent and refined. I think, you, Mr. Spectre, you would be a snake.”

“I can see it.” Miss Kotozume piped up.

Spectre laughed. So could he. He smiled, wide, and Miss Usami took that as a very heartening sign.

“A lemon meringue pie snake. Very original. I like it. I like it a lot, thank you, Miss Usami.” Spectre rambled madly and with much delight.

“Here, help me decorate it then.” Miss Usami chirped. 

“I would love to.” Spectre replied.

He had no doubt that the pie was going to end up over-accessorized but he was going to enjoy it. His stomach threatened to grumble but he suppressed it. He helped Miss Usami smear whipped cream atop the layer of meringue atop the pie. She had coloured the cream an orangey yellow which Spectre was fond of. Together, they drew an S-shape atop the pie. An S for Spectre; an S for snake. Spectre then reached for the blueberries provided; he put one where the S opened at the top, making an eye. Using the others, he added decorations, shoving them up against the crust of the pie. Miss Usami mimicked using segments of the nectarines cut up and pieces of an orange. The end result was as Spectre predicted; far too much but utterly delectable, too.

As agreed upon earlier, they took the pie, some other refreshments like tea, and crockery outside to eat there. They sat upon the outdoor tables, shaped like toadstools, painted bright reds with cream white splotches. Miss Kenjo opened up the parasols attached and the sunshine was pleasant. 

Spectre very easily could have devoured the slice of the lemon meringue pie that he was given as soon as it was set down in front of him but no, he took the moment to savour it. Even all cut up, the decorating on it was more abstract than it was before but it looked delicious. The crust was thick and flaky; the filling was a bright, citric yellow that Spectre didn’t realise was possible without food colouring or something; the meringue was the purest white with tan stripes on top. It just looked divine, those girls truly knew their craft - and he had helped, he thought to himself. If he didn’t know any better, he would say that it was shining. Sparkling. But that was nonsense, surely.

“Thank you for this meal.” Spectre said and he then picked up a fork.

All the girls looked towards him expectantly. His neutral expression twitched at the corner of his mouth as he felt oddly hot under the collar now that he was being watched. No matter, he ate regardless and when he chewed, when he swallowed, he smiled quite largely because of it.

“Delicious.” he said and he patted his mouth with his handkerchief. “Now, if you girls would be so kind, I would like to eat in peace. I dislike being watched.”

“O-Oh! Our apologies.” Miss Arisugawa pied up.

Miss Usami exaggeratedly averted her eyes from where he was sitting, she was all craned out sitting over at a different table, leaning over just to watch him, she had now swung the other way and laughed.

“It’s good to hear that you enjoy it though.” she said.

“I am.” Spectre replied. “There might be some truth to your insane logic; this food does, indeed, sparkle.”

The girls were thrilled to hear that. They smiled and turned unto their own shares of the lemon meringue pie. And then, somewhere in the distance but not too far away, grass crunched underfoot as someone approprached. Someone who loudly approached.

“Hello, Pretty Cures!” a voice bellowed out.

Spectre’s brow twitched. All he wanted was to eat his pie in peace but it seemed that the world had it out for him as he turned around and he saw someone who he assumed was human. She looked human but she also had pointed ears, he noticed as she came closer, and not that he could talk, but there was something unusual about her mouth. It was… big and toothy. Speaking of her teeth, when she grinned maniacally as she did, all them seemed sharped.

“A friend of yours, I presume?” Spectre asked.

“No…” Miss Usami said and she got up, hands turning to fists. “No, she’s anything but…”

“I think of her as a friend.” Miss Kirahoshi courageously and gallantly defended this little miss over there.

“She doesn’t think you’re her friend…” Miss Tategami added.

“Oh-ho-ho, how inconvenient.” she bellowed as she saw Spectre. “You have a guest.” She licked her lips and her tongue was long and lizard-like. She was beginning to unsettle Spectre and that was quite a feat. She stared him down and her eyes bugged. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“N-No, I’m not.” Spectre replied and he refused to give further information - both to her and these other girls.

Her ears twitched. “You’re from Den City, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Correct.” Spectre said, suspiciously.

“You’re a member of the Knights of Hanoi, aren’t you?” she asked.

Spectre swallowed. “Correct.” he admitted.

“You’re…. Spectre, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Correct.” Spectre replied and his heart trembled in his chest as he tried to understand how this girl knew these things from thin air.

Miss Kenjo’s eyes widened and her expression turned aghast; she glanced at Spectre, betrayal ready to break, “The Knights of Hanoi? Is that true? Bibury has the power to create rumours that aren’t true b-but what she’s saying about you, is it all true?”

Miss Usami and Miss Arisugawa exchanged worried looks, “Who are… the Knights of Hanoi?” Miss Usami asked on behalf of them both.

“A terrorist organisation.” Miss Kenjo informed them, dire and serious.

“Oh my…” Miss Kotozume commented with an expression which was both surprised and bored.

“I heard a rumour that Spectre from the big, bad Knights of Hanoi… cries for his mommy when even the teeniest-tiniest thing goes wrong for him.” Bibury taunted him.

“I do not!” Spectre snarled. 

He stepped forward suddenly, viciously, and his expression grew fearsome. Grotesque. Scaring the girls. And when he noticed, that expression all but fell off his face with guilt. He - He didn’t want to scare or spook these girls. They were nice and sweet and they thought he was a little rough around the edges but not a bad person…

“I heard a rumour that the Knights of Hanoi couldn’t even do anything by themselves, anyway. All your goals accomplished… by someone else. And you just cried and cried and cried for mommy because as it turns out. You didn’t want your Ignis to die.” Bibury said and she made a cruelly cute expression as she held up that creepy little doll in front of her.

“What’s an Ignis?” Miss Tategami asked and Spectre could have laughed. Of course the girl named Aoi would ask that but now wasn’t the time for such humour.

“Of course I wanted him to die.” Spectre snapped, hot tears in his eyes and he clawed at them. “I’m a proud member of the Knights of Hanoi, second in command and right hand of the leader, Master Revolver. I - I would never hold feelings otherwise.”

Bibury grinned. “You’re just… bristling with negative energy right now.” she said. She thrust that doll into the air. “Kira-kiraru: be stained by the darkness! Noir Filling!” 

The doll which didn’t have a mouth, now most certainly had one. Its maw opened up wide and Spectre clutched his heart. He felt something be taken from him and when he strained his eyes, he saw it. It wasn’t just from him but from the lemon meringue pie behind him on the table. He saw a flurry of these little star shaped crystals, spiny and sparkling, multi-coloured. Only to turn to black as it was swallowed up by that doll.

Bibury dropped the doll and before it could hit the ground, it became a titan. A food themed titan. Its belly grew round with meringue and its arms donned armour of pastry. The smell of lemons pervaded the little countryside bit to the point of being an overpowering stench.

Spectre’s jaw dropped. This was… He hadn’t even seen anything like this in the digital realm of the Link VRAINS. And here it was happening before his eyes. He glanced around and all the girls bristled with determination and tenacity. 

Miss Arisugawa offered a sympathetic look, “You’re not the only one with secrets, Mr. Spectre.” she informed him.

“Alright girls!” Miss Usami yelled. “Cure a la Mode… Decoration!”

She - and the other girls - produced something from their pockets. It looked like a large, cake-shaped make-up compact but when it opened, there were gems and the like inside. As well as a stylus which they pinched and used it to whip up where the foundation or the like in a make-up compact would sit.

In doing so, they caused great expressions of light to burst forward. They were swathed by it all, ribboning and spiralling. It was beautiful and bizarre. Spectre’s eyes were dazzled as he tried to keep up with what was happening. The smell of baking sweets permeated the area and he heard music: the sort of cheerful music which would belong to a carousel. And when it was all over, the light broke apart and he could hardly recognise these girls.

“With Liveliness and Smiles! Let's La Mix It All Up! Cure Whip! Ready To Serve!”

“With Intelligence and Courage! Let's La Mix It All Up! Cure Custard! Ready To Serve!”

“With Freedom and Passion! Let's La Mix It All Up! Cure Gelato! Ready To Serve!”

“With Beauty and Excitement! Let's La Mix It All Up! Cure Macaron! Is Ready To Serve!”

“With Strength and Love! Let's La Mix It All Up! Cure Chocolat! Is Ready To Serve!”

“With Dreams and Hope! Let's La Mix It All Up! Cure Parfait! Is Ready To Serve!”

Their declarations were equal parts confounding and assuring, Spectre found. Just as this Bibury person was… human-like but not necessarily human, the same could be said about these girls. Their hair was huge. They now bore all sorts of tails and ears as they donned eccentric and cute outfits. They wielded wands and Spectre knew all of this now that his vision wasn’t plagued with splotches of bright, rainbow-like colours. They were magical girls and some part of his child self inside of him was very much vindicated. He always knew that magic was real.

“Oh good, the dorky animal parade is all geared up to go but I have a goooood feeling about it this time, Iru, yummo, that little guest of yours is just _made_ of negative energy. If I didn’t know any better… I’d say he was just like me.” Bibury taunted.

Spectre’s stomach squirmed. He didn’t want to know what that meant.

“Don’t worry, we’ll protect you.” Cure Custard assured him with a smile.

“Yeah, we won’t let Bibury get away with saying mean things about you!” Cure Whip yelled.

“Yeah!” Cures Gelato and Parfait added, hands going through the air.

Unfortunately, Cures Macaron and Chocolat weren’t so convinced. But they still got up on their haunches, ready to defend Spectre even if they were also ready to believe that he was as Bibury (did rightfully) call him.

The Pretty Cures, as they were called, surged forward. Their attacks weren’t exactly coordinated but they were giving their wall. From the wands that they wielded, plumes of chocolate, caramel, whipped cream and more were produced from the tips. They were malleable and were used akin to battering rams and whips. But Iru, in its form as a lemon meringue pie, had stalwart defences. 

It raised its arms, fortified with meringue and pastry armour, and the PreCures attacks hardly phased it. All that their attacks did was make a huge, sticky mess. Bibury cackled to herself, hands on her hips. She tossed her head back too with her prideful crowing. Only to throw herself forward and point a knobbly, sharp-nailed finger at Spectre.

“Iru! Get him!” Bibury screamed.

Spectre froze. For all that defending, this was the first time the gargantuan monster was going on the offensive. It gave a deafening roar. In the wake, trees bent and the grass below was desiccated. It was a miracle that any of them could withstand it; the girls defended themselves, arms protectively in front of their faces but it brought Spectre to his knees. He was terrified. Especially as Iru’s arm swung out and that armour which plated it evolved. It became a canon and it was firing up. Spectre was helpless as he watched a lemon yellow colour build and explode inside the barreled arm of Iru’s canon.

The energy at that base was launched. Blindingly bright whilst Spectre was on his hands and knees, staring. Completely prepared to be obliterated. 

Until someone swooped in. The fastest of the lot of six girls with a big, bouncing tail and bucked teeth. Cure Custard dashed about and despite being a tiny thing, she managed to effortlessly pick up Spectre and carry him to the otherside of where the battlefield was. Together, they had narrowly missed the worst that beam which seemed to be made of meringue towards the body of the KiraPati building.

Spectre’s heart hammered in his chest. Cure Custard had one arm across his back and her other arm was hooked around his knees to support him. He felt protected in her embrace, saving them both, especially when she looked down at him and gave him a kind but stern smile to assure him. He felt like a baby in her arms but he knew that he would look like anything but given how large he was and how tiny Cure Custard was. Yet despite their size differences, she had more than just a handle on him as she cradled him in a bridal style carry. Holding him and with a smile, at that, Cure Custard effortlessly she sped across to save him from the ensuing destruction. THer legs were a blur beneath her skirt and craning over her shoulder to see what had happened, Spectre saw their blended afterimage in a yellow streak.

“There we go.” Cure Custard said as she gently set him down. She gave him a salute and her squirrel ears atop her head twitched.

“Thank you.” Spectre sounded quite shaken in his reply.

Her tail whipped about and she spun on her heel before taking off, her superspeed activating once more. Spectre just watched, stunned, as the girls continued to fight. Even the KiraPati was doing its best to remain standing despite the blow it had just taken. The building smouldered with huge swathes of meringue coating it but it still stood tall and in a sense, still smiled as the girls defended it - and Spectre, too.

Bibury growled and groaned, upset that her and Iru’s potshot against Spectre hadn’t gone through since Cure Custard had gotten to him first in the nick of time. She grabbed at her annoyedly and stamped her foot before exploding into more demands unto Iru. And Iru, of course, slugged through every order seamlessly. Its attacks became less discriminate, less powered up for a shorter recharge time.

Meringue was plastered about through the battlefield; sticky and drying and sweetly smelling, admittedly. The PreCures fought back valiantly, with slews of their own sugar-based attacks. It was easily the most surreal thing that Spectre had ever witnessed as he flinched from another roar that Iru set free from deep within the pit of its stomach.

Bit by bit, the PreCure closed in on Iru and Bibury. They clustered in a crescent-like line and held up their weapons one by one. A seriousness glazed their eyes as they unleashed their first - and only - coordinated attack. With a wave of their wands, they produced more of their magic but in a new, more advanced form, more fitting to their namesake. Layer after layer of cake and other goodies, they created a gigantic mass they controlled together with their scepters.

“Three Two Wonderful A La Mode!”

It quivered and trembled, suspended in the air as an enormous force of mass. And now all of it was sent pummeling down as the girls controlled it. In symphonic unison, all their wands flick up and up then down. The six-layer cake slammed into the ground. In the process, it engulfed Iru. Completely and utterly. Iru was a giant in its own credit and yet the multilayer cake totalled it wholly. Not a bit or a bob peeked out from within the cake which had now had Iru captured.

“Iru, no!” Bibury yelled, running forward with a hand extended.

The cake began to dissipate into specks of light and other sparkles. Spectre supposed that meant the doll as a vehicle of destruction had been purified. The cake disappeared. So did the swathes of meringue blasts which had carved up the battlefield and painted the KiraPati building. The Pretty Cures were satisfied that once more the day was saved.

The doll was suspended in the air, it shook and trembled and Bibury ran around beneath it, waiting for it to drop. When she did, she caught it in a bear hug. She glared down the PreCure with a pouty frown. 

“Would you like to join us for high tea?” Cure Parfait called out.

Bibury stuck her tongue out at Cure Parfait - and the rest of the cures.

“Oui! Duly noted, perhaps next time?” Cure Parfait replied.

Bibury disappeared with a trick of teleportation. Black-purple coloured swallowed her up but colourful light, tiny sparkles and stars, were spat out. That light and those sparkles returned to their rightful places of origin. In the thick, gaudy layers of the lemon curd and flaky pastry and smooth meringue, even in Spectre’s heart. His breath was taken away as he watched these sparkles sink into him. He tried to touch them but they were incorporeal; warm but incorporeal, only those delightful colours. So, instead, all he did was skirt his breast with his fingertips, marvelling at that magic of feeling as though something stolen had been returned. Restored, even.

“Brava, girls, we did well.” Cure Whip said.

The girls agreed, murmuring and smiling. Then, in a blink, they changed forms again. The way they powered down happened in a blink of an eye. It reminded Spectre a lot of logging out from the Link VRAINS. All it was was a white clatter and shatter of white, like translucent glass falling apart. And now, these superheroines were just regular middle school and high school students. Save for one and this was stranger still but Cure Parfait did not become Miss Kirahoshi but rather some cute, tiny pink thing with fluffy ears and a fluffy tail. But Spectre wasn’t quite surprised that she wasn’t entirely human, she always gave him peculiar vibrations.

Miss Usami happily patted Miss Arisugawa’s shoulder. “You were a real star today, Himarin.”

Miss Arisugawa blushed, turned in on herself with modesty but she accepted the praise, nonetheless, “I wanted to protect my new friend.” she said and she glanced towards Spectre.

Spectre scrambled to his feet. He had been loved and left before, landing on his knees when Cure Custard had rescued him earlier. He patted himself down for dust and stray strands of grass but there wasn’t a nary wrinkle on him. It was as though he, too, had been rejuvenated just like the battlefield after being ruined as it were. 

But now prompted by Miss Arisugawa, Spectre was now subjected to strange, rather concerned stares from the girls. They hesitantly shuffled closer and Spectre took a steadying breath through his mouth. He would solemnly take whatever judgement that these girls cast onto him, all he intended to ask was that they did not send him away on an empty stomach. 

“It's true. All of what that young lady said about me is true.” he said, uncharacteristically attacking first but a good offence could be an even better defence, he supposed.

“What, no?!” Miss Usami exclaimed. “Bibury is a liar. She lies. It’s what she does.”

Spectre shook his head. “I am Spectre, member of the Knights of Hanoi’s upper echelon. I am an accomplice in an attempted mass murder.”

“That’s horrible.” Miss Arisugawa was distraught but there was a timidness to her distress.

“I suspected so.” Miss Kenjo stated strongly.

“You did?!” Miss Tategami exclaimed. “I thought he was some bit part actor in a crummy J-Drama!”

Spectre laughed but it was a sad, sardonic laugh. “Please, all I ask, is that you don’t send me away or call the appropriate authorities. All I want is to go home, back to my friends. My family.”

“The Knights of Hanoi, kira?” Miss Kirahoshi prompted.

Spectre nodded and he was hesitant but he reached out to her in this plush toy-like form. He petted her head and he wondered briefly if this was what it would have been like to touch Earth. She was warm and soft, very different to how Spectre envisioned Earth feeling but she was enchanting and he suspected Earth to be very much the same. Two branches of the same tree, he thought it was possible that they were. Would have been in a kinder timeline.

Miss Kirahoshi leaned into Spectre’s petting of her. She seemed to be enjoying it thoroughly.

“The Knights of Hanoi are the only family I’ve ever known, save for my precious tree, I won’t bother you with the details-” Spectre continued but Miss Arisugawa, of all people, interrupted them.

“Why? What happened? I want you to explain.” she said suddenly, only to blush for her boldness.

“This information cannot leak to the public, I hope you understand.” Spectre impressed upon them but then he wryly smiled. “I suppose the same thing could be said of you girls.” He sighed. “The Knights of Hanoi’s initial goal was to creature artificial intelligence with free will. To fulfil this aim, they kidnapped six children and experimented upon them. I was one of those children.”

The girls gasped. Their eyes widened and before any of their pity or compassion, could reach him, Spectre cut them off but he did relish their reactions. He always did.

“I enjoyed it. Being starved, electrocuted, contained in a tiny unit. It was fun.” he said. “Before it, I was very bored. I had been abandoned as an infant, left to die in the wilderness, protected only by the tree I was destined to die under. But during it, I was given purpose.”

Miss Kotozume looked disgusted but… potentially with herself. “I can understand that.” she admitted. “If I may attempt to. It’s similar to becoming Cure Macaron. If I wasn’t fighting monsters every other day as her, I would be… very bored.”

Spectre smiled fondly. No wonder she got on his nerves. They were too similar.

“The creature borne of me was called the Earth Ignis,” Spectre continued to explain, “and he is dead. He was the first of them to die. The Ignis had to be killed, it was decided. For if they lived, they would have erased all humanity. To kill them, we almost caused the detonation of Den City. But, fortunately, or unfortunately, we were stopped.”

“Th-That’s so sad.” Miss Arisugawa whimpered.

Spectre tossed another look at Miss Kotozume who was still mulling over his words. She was chewing on her thumb.

“I think, from now on, I would like to think I would be like you.” Spectre confessed. “Spending my days in idle bliss, baking macaron after macaron, if it were not for the Incident which fundamentally changed my childhood. My life. I have no regrets and I would like to keep it that way but I understand if you wish to be rid of me.”

“No, no, no!” Miss Arisugawa squealed, tears in her eyes. 

She flung both her arms and herself forward. She embraced Spectre and snuggled into him. Spectre awkwardly let her, shoulders rising as he felt incredibly uncomfortable by her very open display of affection.

“Himarin…” Miss Usami’s voice was indecipherable. 

“That’s a, um, very unusual story.” Miss Kenjo said, then, under her breath she added: “Remind me to never go into law…”

“I’m glad you are still here.” Miss Arisugawa said and she began to sob. “I heard that you could have been killed yourself in that event. Gosh, it's so scary.”

“It is, isn’t it? To think about.” Spectre murmured. He stroked her face. “But don’t waste your tears on someone like me.”

“And why not?!” she barked at him, eyes red and lips quivering.

“It’s true, kira.” Miss Kirahoshi mumbled. “We don’t exactly loathe villains around here, kira. We want what’s good for them too, kira.”

Miss Kenjo looked like she wanted to protest but was unable to find the grounds in which she could protest. The villains they faced were magic. The villain that Spectre took the shape of was… decidedly not but she supposed that if Noir had his way, Ichigozaka and all its inhabitants would be dead too. Likely miserable and starved to death…

“I’m glad I got to meet you, Spectre.” Miss Arisugawa said, dropping the honorific she had been so shyly using with him. She looked up at him with stars in her eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever meet a person like you ever again. You are a very unique person but I don’t think you’re evil. I want to continue to be your friend, near or apart, I hope you feel the same.”

Spectre’s heart fluttered and he clawed at his face. He started crying. Miss Arisugawa - no, Himari - hugged him tighter. She cried too. She smashed her face into his midsection and snuggled. Spectre held her in return, embracing her and the other girls gave the same to them, following Himari’s lead. The gaggle of them hugged Spectre. It was a messy and suffocating hug but it was one that he had never experienced before.

Himari’s words touched him in ways he didn’t know he could be touched. He had never felt so wanted before than when this tiny girl with boundless innocence and purity hugged him, telling him that she was glad to have met him purely for being himself. Not even Master Ryoken had satiated that deep-seated need of his to be wanted and needed and that made him feel guilty to acknowledge. 

The other girls, their hugs fell away as seconds had turned to minutes and all their arms were getting tired. But not Himari. She continued to hug him as though he were going to disappear if she let go. That charmed Spectre greatly as he toyed with a curl of her fluffy, light brown hair along his index finger.

“Thank you, Himari.” Spectre said softly.

Shyly, Himari looked up at him. She smiled a tiny, sweet smile.

“That’s enough. You’ve purified this villain just like you did that doll.” Spectre told her. “I promise, I can assure you, despite our previous deeds, us Knights are trying to do right by the world. We are seeking redemption.” 

“I believe you.” Himari replied.

She hesitantly began to break off her embrace. Spectre already missed the warmth and comfort of her arms as she slipped off his waist. She looked so adorable clinging to him, he would cherish the memory, he was certain. This girl very much meant more to him than she would likely realise and he would ever be inclined to communicate. 

“We all do.” Ichika added.

“Thank you.” Spectre replied, no longer hugged by anyone but his heart pounded calmer now anyway.

“Oui, kira,” Ciel added, “I said something very hurtful to my brother and it caused him to be consumed by darkness but we still found reconciliation, kira. Perhaps, if you have hope, your Earth Ignis will return to you, kira. Sometimes, those who are dead to us still love us and can still be found, kira. I want to believe that these Ignis, if spoken to, with truth, sincerity, and heart would not come to destroy humanity, kira. Us fairies have seen it all and will continue to do so, watching humanity and loving them for all their faults, kira. Perhaps the Ignis could come to do so as well, kira. ” 

Her words were tentative but Spectre listened intently to the little floating muppet with grave philosophy. He smiled for her, though. He thought of Ai and how he had returned to Playmaker not that long ago. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps he could have hope and that he could dream to be forgiven by his Ignis: for plotting his murder for all these years, for not intercepting his murder, for not even attempting to fight for some justice in his death.

“I would like that very much, thank you for your kind words, Miss Kirahoshi.” Spectre elected to reply to her.

Ciel bopped his nose with her paw before somersaulting back. Her tail whipped one way and her eyes whipped the other and her midsection turned to a blinding white light. A clamour of white and turquoise light, the fur-ball became a human-like girl again. She smiled and her eyes had less enigma to them now. She was magic and that’s all there was to it, apparently.

“Well,” Ichika said, clearing her throat, “the first best time to eat a lemon meringue pie is when its fresh out of the oven. The second best time is after an attack from an agent of Noir, anyone else hungry?”

“That sounds like a fine idea, Ichika.” Yukari blithely agreed.

Spectre silently agreed as well. He knew well that there was no tactful way to progress from discussions of childhood trauma to, well, anything else.

“And you would like to continue joining us, yeah, Spectre?” Ichika asked.

“Of course.” Spectre replied, a hand on his heart and eyes closed.

They returned to their places at the two tables. The colour and taste had returned to their slices of the pie, good as new. Spectre ate his serving, all in all, although the ice-cream and whipped cream on it had melted beyond all recognition. Nonetheless, he licked his plate clean with poise and elegance. He truly did enjoy the lemon meringue pie, not just his portion but the others he was allowed to take from the tray as well as seconds. All of it. The meringue and the orange slices, even the creams which had turned to milk.

Afterwards, Spectre came inside and helped clean up. He washed up his plate as well as the girls. That gave them time to do something. They wanted to give him a present and they wanted it to be a surprise but Spectre already had a decent idea of what sort of surprise they would give him on such short notice. They were done just as he was done with the dishes. 

“Ta-da!” Ichika said as she presented the flip style notes to Spectre.

He smiled sentimentally as he accepted it. Though rushed, it was rather adorable and thorough too. A series of recipes on note cards; the recipes, of course, correlating to their own menu and their superheroine counterparts. So, he now had a fine collection of recipes for strawberry shortcake, custard pudding, ice-cream, chocolate cake, macarons, and parfait. They had also included a variety of extra pages; a thank you note, all for him, and of course the recipe to the lemon meringue pie. There were also added pages on doughnuts and waffles, although, he wasn’t quite sure what the connection was but he was certain that either would go down a treat with Ryoken if he were to make them as he did enjoy greasy foods.

“I hope you enjoy them.” Himari said, smiling with crinkling eyes. “I hope that one day you can enjoy a custard pudding with the Earth Ignis and your family.”

“I hope so as well.” Spectre confessed. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that the Ignis didn’t have mouths, and Earth was no exception - but he did delight in imagining telling her and imagining her playfully panicked as she tried to redact her statement but not her sentiment.

“So, like, when you gotta be back to your terrorist pals?” Aoi asked coarsely.

Spectre cringed and he was not the only one. Akira bopped Aoi on the back of her head for being crass. She was not so understandably outraged that she was somehow in the wrong.

“I don’t have to be back to our lodgings until sundown.” Spectre did tell her, though.

Ichika checked her wristwatch. “Ooh, we still have time to make lunch and more sweets, if you like. Wouldn’t it be nice to bring back another Super Special Spectre Snake Lemon Meringue Pie to you’re, uh, friends…?”

“Yes, that does sound nice.” Spectre agreed.

The girls were heartened. They quickly whipped up cold meat and salad sandwiches to eat whilst they made preparations to make another lemon meringue pie. Even their savoury dishes were quite lovely, no matter how simple they were. Once eaten and once all the things to make the pie were brought out again, they made busy work of themselves again. 

They donned their aprons once more with smiles and Spectre enjoyed putting on his orange designated one as well. They more or less sorted themselves into their previous teams; Yukari and Akira made the meringue; Ichika and Ciel made the pastry; Aoi and Himari handled the filling; and Spectre was once again their toy to toss about as they saw fit, their extra set of hands. He had fun and he felt as though he got to do more now as the girls had adjusted very well, all things considered, to his presence. 

The preparation time simply flew by. Even placing the curd in the freezer to chill seemed to feel shorter rather than longer as the other teams finished up or had a chat on the interim. The kitchen smelt very sweet and felt very friendly by the time the whole of the pie was ready to enter the oven. 

Spectre joined the girls as they clustered around the oven. Ichika was the one to have the honours of actually putting it in; she was wearing pink, fluffy oven mitts and smiled even as she took the brunt of the warm blast from inside the pre-heated oven. The girls stole funny looks at Spectre who harrumphed, otherwise ignoring them. Ichika gently placed the pie, snug as a bug in a rug in its metal tray, on the wires of the oven. She then sealed up the oven with a clunk as the door slotted against the frame. Ichika stole one last glance at Spectre, annoying him, he huffed through his nose, and then smiled at the other girls.

“Kira-kira-ru.” they chanted. Seven voices. “Kira-kira-ru.”

The magic words felt funny in Spectre’s mouth. Like putting pearls of out of date sugar sprinkles on his tongue, but he tried anyway to latch himself onto this girl’s ritual. He still felt like the outsider despite them knowing his secrets and him knowing their secrets. Still, his heart swelled as he spoke them, joining that chorus and he smiled.

“You did much better this time,” Himari praised him as they finished up, “you’re like a real KiraPati pâtissier now.” 

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Spectre brushed her off but his eyes were soft.

With the pie in the oven, where it would need to be for slightly less than half an hour, the crowd dispersed and they found little things to do. As it had already been Ichika, Ciel, and Spectre’s turns to do the dishes, Akira and Yukari volunteered to do them whilst Aoi and Himari cleaned down their benches. That kept them quite busy for the time being and when it didn’t, they were happy to come back for something of a gossip. Spectre listened idly as the girls tossed out their daily concerns; teachers they felt treated them unfairly, chores they had to do at home. It was sickly sweet and reminded Spectre very well of why he never wanted to be part of the general population.

Before any of them knew it, the oven went ding and they all got excited. Ichika smiled and offered her oven mitts to Spectre, “Do you want to take it out?” she asked, eyes bright.

“It would be my pleasure.” Spectre replied and made no attempted to not sound facetious.

Yukari laughed at his reply, though. The corners of his lips twitched with the echoes of a faint smile.

Spectre put on the oven mitts offered to him. Ichika giggled and smiled as she watched Spectre put them on. They glided onto his hands and he was surprised to realise they were adult sized rather than Ichika sized, meaning they fit him perfectly. 

He opened up the oven and squinted against the heatwave. Looking into it, the pie was perfectly browned on top and the base itself had crispened marvellously. He took the pie out and someone - Akira - reached across to turn off the oven at its knobs. Spectre brought the pie back and as his eyes adjusted after being blasted with the warm air, he noticed something unusual about the pie.

It sparkled. Cluster upon cluster of the same little particles from before that had been stolen from the previous pie and even from inside of him, mingled and danced upon the smooth layer of meringue atop the pie.

Beside him, Ciel gasped, “Tres bien! Look at all the kira-kiraru.”

“Is that a good thing?” Spectre asked.

“A fantastique thing!” Ciel exclaimed. “Much more than usual, it must have been because your heart was truly in it this time.”

Spectre blushed. He wanted to grumble, too, but he cut himself off. What embarrassing and fantastical things. He glanced over to the window and he saw that the pleasant, afternoon blue of the sky had become to shift and twist. It was becoming dusk, he could see it in the faintly indigo tint that the sky was accruing and even just in how those fluffy white clouds floated along above the treeline which surrounded KiraPati.

“I best be going soon.” Spectre suddenly commented.

Himari pouted and shuffled closer. “Please don’t go home just now, we still haven’t decorated the pie.” she said. “We haven’t put the snake on it.”

What a poor sweetie, Spectre thought to himself as he petted her shoulder. “Alright, just a little bit longer then. Can’t have a snake pie without a snake on it, yes?”

“Yes!” Himari chirruped with a big, bright smile on her face.

Ears pricking up, Ichika immediately threw herself into her leadership role once more. “Okay, Spectre and Himarin can do the decorating, ne, Aoi and I will get the whipped cream and fruits ready, Yukari, Akira, do you think you can do the paper box folding so Spectre can take his pie home?” Ichika asked. 

“Of course.” Yukari replied. She immediately set herself to work at finding and compiling a cardboard box to put the lemon meringue pie in.

“On it.” Aoi replied as well.

Ichika blinked and then faced Spectre. “Where is home, anyway?”

“Den City, of course, but for now I’m on vacation, remember. I’m enjoying the finer things in life on a cruise liner, of all things.” Spectre replied.

“Do you think we can stay in touch?” Himari asked.

“It’s inadvisable but thank you for the thought.” Spectre said diplomatically.

Whilst Himari and Spectre had their quiet, little conversation, the other girls got the things ready for them to do their decorating. Aoi plonked fresh fruit from the refrigerator on the table whilst Ichika whipped up the cream. It didn’t take anyone that long and they were all happy to watch Himari and Spectre decorate the lemon meringue pie together.

Spectre piped on the cream whilst Himari placed the blueberry eye on. She looked up at him and giggled; she thought his face of extreme concentration was quite silly looking. It didn’t take all that long to finish up since it was a minimalist piece but Ichika peered past Spectre and smiled.

“That looks great.” she said. “Almost as good as mine.”

“You wish.” Spectre snidely replied without thinking.

Ichika laughed. “C’mon, let’s get it into its box so you can take it home.” 

“Thank you.” Spectre said.

Having the most delicate fingers out of all of them, Yukari offered to do the boxing. After all, it was part of her and Akira’s duties in this last little bit. Spectre thanked her and he took off his apron. He attempted to give it back to Ichika but she palmed him off so that he could keep it as yet another souvenir of his time here at KiraPati. So, he folded it up and placed it over his arm before returning to face Yukari. He took the box off her and she bowed her head slightly at him in reciprocity. Another glance outside and he realised that it was getting dark. He then made sure he had the little ring of recipe cards that he had been given as well and was seen off. The girls seemed a little bit sad to be seeing Spectre off but even their melancholy was sympathetic and bright.

But before Spectre could even make it to the doorway of the kitchen, he found himself bawling. The lemon meringue pie, all safe in its box, felt so, so heavy in his hands. And it felt heavy with all the kindness in which he had been shown. He simply couldn’t help himself. He was having a lot of these bouts recently, wherein his own emotions seemed alien to him, even as he put up a strong or brave front to sate what he felt were the expectations around him but around these girls, those expectations were very different to what he felt as a Knight of Hanoi.

And so, he let these tears roll swiftly down his cheeks and he didn’t even feel guilty about it. It felt cathartic to simply express himself, even if it felt base or childlike to himself. There were no pity in these eyes which watched him, simply pure empathy. He thanked them profusely and Himari patted his lower back. 

“We’ll miss you as well,” she told him as she helped him to the door, his crying had turned more to hiccuping sobs by now, “I’ll miss you, too.”

“I’ll miss you a lot as well, Himari, I’m sure, in a nicer world, we could have been much closer.” Spectre lamented.

“Then continue working on your redemption,” she told him, “and then, one day, come back here and I’ll be waiting. I promise.”

Spectre’s heart ached. Himari was too good for him. “Thank you.” he replied, even if he did have his serious doubts but maybe… maybe he could stand to learn to be a little bit nicer and then maybe he could begin to dream to fulfil Himari’s promise. He took a breath.

“I shall.” he said, not necessarily a promise but it was in the lit up eyes of Himari. “And, in the meantime, given that you gave me a recommendation of your favourite book, I would like to leave the same in yours. It’s called Blue Angel and the author’s name escapes me but I think it would have been the sort of book you would have appreciated when you were younger…”

Himari nodded. “Blue Angel… I’ll definitely look into it. Leave it to me.” she said.

Well then,” Spectre said, smiling, “I will be taking my leave, thank you for showing me exactly how lovely of a place Ichigozaka is.”

“No worries, take care.” Ichika said. “Don’t forget to brush your teeth well tonight, haha.”

Himari nodded. “Ayup, have a safe trip and come back soon, you hear.”

The other girls bade him goodbye as well and he felt a titchy bit awkward as he started to prowl off towards town, on the very same road that he had come down. 

“Man, I can’t believe Pekorin and Chouchou chose the worst day to go have lessons in the mountains. I mean, it ain’t every other day we meet an internet terrorist.” Aoi lamented.

“Oui, I am glad I didn’t say yes to that trip either, I feel… a vague affinity with him.” Ciel said and she played with Himari’s hair upon that. “Although, I think this little one has the real affinity.”

Himari blushed.

Spectre tried his best not to eavesdrop and the girls didn’t seem to realise that he was still in listening distance. Still, he was glad that, of the impressions that he could leave on people, particularly young girls, wasn’t entirely negative. 

It was well and truly dark by the time that Spectre returned. He found Ryoken in the living room where he was sat, on his phone at the breakfast bar. Spectre flashed him a blithe smile but Ryoken seemed mildly irritated with him. Though that expression did change when his nose smelt something good. He set down his phone and came forward, hovering.

“Whatcha got there?” Ryoken asked and Spectre let him open the box as he attempted to.

Ryoken whistled and smacked his lips when he looked into the box. He was very much impressed by the well decorated lemon meringue pie that he saw it. Already, his mouth began to water.

“Is this for now or later?” Ryoken asked.

“Later. I want all of us to enjoy it as an after dinner treat.” Spectre replied. “It was made special to order, just for me. Well, us.”

“I see.” Ryoken said thoughtfully. “So I take it that you made it to the bee farm then, did you?”

“No, actually. I only visited one place all day.” Spectre mused as he put the pie in the refrigerator.

“Wow, must have been interesting then, where was it?” Ryoken asked. “Was it the nursery-cafe combo? I walked past it a couple times but could’ve sworn their boxes were white, not pink. Plus, I think I would’ve seen you in it if that’s where you’ve been hanging all day...”

“I saw it as well but I actually ended up in the outskirts of town, I found the most peculiar and charming little patisserie there, the Kirakira Patisserie - or KiraPati for short.”

Ryoken blinked. “Nope, definitely didn’t see it.”

“I’m not surprised. It’s quite buried into the forest on the outside of Ichigozaka but, believe it or not,” Spectre said and he got out the little keyring of recipe cards to emphasise his point, “I made some wonderful friends there.”

Ryoken laughed. He almost didn’t believe Spectre.

“I mean it. I truly did.” Spectre said and he fondly gazed at the recipe card for the custard pudding. “And once we finish the lemon meringue pie, I want to make us all custard puddings.”

“That sounds lovely, Spectre.” Ryoken replied and there was a lull in conversation. A lingering sweetness.

“Also,” Spectre piped up suddenly, “don’t let me forget. I need to track down a copy of a book called _Science of Sweets_ by one Tachibana Yuu. One of my new friends, the dearest to my heart, recommends it.”

“Will do.” Ryoken said.

Spectre smiled and he enjoyed the feeling of how his heart beat in his chest, languid and placid. He was very much looking forward to having dinner with Ryoken and the Lieutenants, Pandor, too, if she liked, and then looking forward to having the pie and then, one day, looking forward to making and having the custard puddings together. That, he thought dearly, would be quite sweet.

**Author's Note:**

> I won't lie, I did start shipping Himari/Spectre by the end of writing this they're my favourites so I want them to be my favourites together, you know? Plus that height difference would be to die for.


End file.
